Another Sick Fic
by Fatal Overdose
Summary: "See, um, I-I-I kinda... love... you?" The second the words left his mouth he cringed back against the wall, grimacing as he waited for Chase to lash out again. (there are polls on my profile. If you would?)


**It's five in the morning. I HAVEN'T FUCKING SLEPT SINCE THURSDAY GOD DAMMIT! HERE HAVE PEOPLE NOT DYING OR WHATEVER. *angrily devours a kitkat* ALSO IT WOULD BE COOL IF YOU REVIEWED BECAUSE I DEEPLY APPRECIATE EVERYONE WHO TAKES THE TIME TO DO THAT. **

His head throbbed painfully, and his body felt weaker and weaker with each passing moment. He hated this, feeling so pathetic and vulnerable! He hadn't been this sick since... ever, really, and it was proving to be a horrendous experience.

What had started as a slight headache earlier that very day had turned into a full-blown... something. It felt as though there were a heavy weight on his chest, and each movement sent a dull pain echoing through him. The nausea accompanying his condition certainly did not make it any better.

Chase hated being sick.

The sound of something hard striking human flesh, followed by a pained squeal alerted him to Spicer's presence, and he growled in annoyance. He wanted no one to see him in this condition, least of all that clumsy _buffoon_.

He forced himself to stand, choosing to ignore the weakness he felt at the sudden motion, as well as the darkening edges of his vision, instead glowering at the doorway, where a man so pale it was almost frightening had just entered.

"State your business and leave." Chase ordered shortly, glaring at the approaching figure with disdain.

As Jack looked down nervously, his idol was forced to quell another wave of nausea. The last thing he needed right now was this _failure_ of a Heylin again begging to become his apprentice. That wasn't to say Wuya and Bean weren't failures as well, but at least they could fight. Chase doubted Spicer could pick up a weapon much larger than a pocket knife, much less _use_ it, and his kung fu skills were deplorable at _best_. The only thing he was good at was failing, and sometimes he couldn't even manage _that!_

Worse still, his own _enemies_ had to save him when he got himself into trouble (which happened all too frequently), as those on his own side wouldn't bother helping him, or more often than not were the cause of his current distress.

"Get on with it, Spicer." He snarled. He barely even heard his own voice over the pounding in his ears.

He twirled his pale fingers around themselves, looking nervously around the room, at the domed ceiling, the white pillars, everywhere but at Chase himself, which, for a reason the warlord couldn't place, only served to make him more irritated. "Um, see, I was thinking maybe..."

The noise faded, replaced by a dull roar. He took several steps forward and the room twisted in warning, which he blatantly ignored. He grasped the collar of the black trenchcoat angrily, but found himself unable to lift the unusually light albino, and the exertion served only to make things worse. The gray film overtook his vision. Maybe... maybe he should... sit down...

...

_"...se?_ Chase? Are you ok?"

He looked up into worried ruby eyes. Hadn't he been standing? The dragon attempted to pull himself up, but found himself unable to do much more than lift his reptilian head. That was another thing; he had no memory of changing forms.

Thin white hands pushed him back to the ground, and the face's expression changed into one of relief. "Easy. You passed out for a second there."

Scaled nostrils flared in indignation. He was not weak enough to fall prey to some _disease_, magic in origin or no! He growled in warning, but the boy didn't leave. If anything, it seemed to strengthen the idiot's resolve.

"Where're all the cats?" Jack questioned, glancing around the room. It was empty aside from the two of them, no signs of the warriors usually clustered around. He shrugged it off, however, returning his attention to the lizard stretched across the floor. His brow furrowed in concentration."If I had my JackBots, this wouldn't be a problem... but... looks like I'll have to carry you!"

Chase scoffed. _"You?_ Carry _me?"_

The genius scowled. "Hey, I don't see you coming up with any ideas! Um...I can do this, yeah, no problem! I'm Jack Spicer, evil boy genius! I can _totally_ take care of this!" He hooked a slender arm around the dragon's waist, and grabbed a clawed hand with the other, helping the immortal lizard to his feet.

Chase stared at him in shock. How exactly had this _twig_ managed to lift a 500 pound lizard? Granted, it had only been for a few seconds, but it was still an impressive feat. Clearly he had underestimated the boy...

His thoughts trailed off as he felt bile rise in his throat. No. He flat-out _refused_ to be sick in front of Spicer. He would not allow himself to be embarrassed any further by this- this sickness.

Adjusting their positions so Jack was bearing most of the weight, the two stumbled rather awkwardly to the bedchamber. In another impressive show of strength, the youth somehow managed to lift the ailing lizard onto his bed.

With a cocky grin and an unsaid _'I told you so'_, the evil genius disappeared out the door.

He merely lay there scowling for some time, unable to get comfortable. The bed was too- too _squishy_, the temperature of the room varying between sweltering and freezing, and his head still felt as though something was beating the inside of his skull with a mallet. In short, he was uncomfortable.

The Heylin leader was unsure of how much time had passed, but he must have fallen asleep, because the next thing he knew, he was being shaken awake by none other than the evil boy genius himself, this time accompanied by one of his tiger warriors, both looking (justifiably, although Chase would never admit it) worried.

"What is it?" He scowled. Did his voice normally sound so raspy? This just got better and better, didn't it.

"Those Xiaolin dorks just showed up for some reason. You wanna get rid of 'em?" His face showed a kind of manic glee at the prospect.

The everlord rolled his eyes. "Simply tell them to return at a later date. I have no wish to antagonize them currently."

The boy pouted slightly, but left the room, presumably to follow Chase's orders. It was only a few seconds later the crashing started. The warlord flinched slightly at the sound of ceramic shattering; doubtlessly one of the more expensive pieces in his collection.

As the noises increased in volume, the dragon's anger grew to match. Those damn monks! What right did they have to enter his home!?

_And why couldn't he move!?_

With a snarl, he forced himself up just in time for Jack to burst in through the door, scrambling to close it as someone- some_thing_, hit it from the other side.

His clothing was torn, his face bruised and scratched. Blood dripped from wounds on his legs and torso, and if his terror wasn't apparent from the expression on his face, the stench of it filled the room.

"Spicer." The boy whirled to face him. "Am I to understand that the _Xiaolin Dragons_ now have free reign of my citadel!?"

He flinched. "M'sorry! They-they- with the _rocks_ and _fire_ and-"

Strangely enough, Chase wasn't angry anymore. At least, not at Jack. No, right now he wanted to rip the monks to shreds for _daring_ to reduce the boy to such a state. Spicer was on the side of evil, and therefore _his_ and _his **alone**_ to ravage.

Meanwhile, Spicer had stopped talking, and was merely standing at the foot of his bed looking sullen. "What?" He growled, causing the younger to flinch a second time.

"N-nothing, just, earlier, when I said-" he broke off. "Nothing."

The warlord growled slightly as Jack slipped out the door again. It seemed the boy could only stand to be in a room with him for so long. The fact that he risked an encounter with the Xiaolin side just to escape him made the bruise to his ego that much worse.

This time, it didn't take long for him to return. The redhead reentered, carrying with him a small cup and a glass pitcher, both filled nearly to the brim with water. He set the pitcher down on a table, and held the cup out for the dragon to take. "Drink up," he said.

Chase's lip curled. "I don't recall asking for your help, Spicer." He was merely irritated and taking it out on Jack, he knew, but that didn't stop him from taking it one step further. "You're too much of a _coward_ to actually be good for anything."

The boy stared at a spot on the floor. His face was seemingly empty of emotion, but the room's other occupant didn't miss the way his hands had curled into fists at his side. "Yeah."

Chase 'hmph'ed and looked away. He wanted _confrontation_, dammit! He was _bored_, and Spicer was, for once, providing him with no entertainment. Wait... did that mean-

The door slammed shut.

Chase scowled. Yes. That meant he didn't despise Jack as much as he had assumed. By all the ancient _Gods_ he must have been going soft in his old age now now that the redheaded boy no longer inspired the same hatred he had before. Or... maybe he hadn't ever hated him...?

With a frustrated growl, Chase downed the water in one gulp. Feelings were _hard!_

...

"Stupid, stupid, _stupid!"_ Jack hissed to himself, pulling at his hair. "God, I can't believe I _did_ that! He probably hates me even _more_ now!"

All it took for him to run away screaming was the threat of injury, so the second Kimiko unleashed that her 'arrow sparrows' or whatever the hell she called them, he was _gone_. Of _course_ Chase thought he was a useless coward!

But that didn't even come _close_ to what he had done earlier. Confessing his _feelings?_ What was he, a fucking _anime character?_ He was just lucky Chase was sick and couldn't kill him yet, not that he hadn't tried to right before the whole passing out thing.

He sighed heavily, sliding down the wall and onto the floor, putting his head in his hands. Feelings were _hard._

...

As the day drew to a close, the sickness that had nearly incapacitated Chase faded as well, and he was no longer trapped in his hideous dragon form, thankfully.

Jack Spicer seemed to have disappeared. Something- guilt, perhaps- was eating away at the everlord's consciousness. The boy had done nothing to warrant insult, after all, and in calling Jack cowardly he could well have lost his- _a valuable **ally**, that was all!__  
_

Oh, how he _loathed_ lowering himself to do such a horrendous thing as _apologize_, but if Jack's little _feelings_ had been hurt, it would be best to ask forgiveness now, rather than later on the off chance he wanted to see- _needed something_ from the goth.

He vanished suddenly, reappearing several miles away at the front doorstep of the Spicer mansion. Since he wasn't intimidating or threatening the boy today, instead of teleporting inside, perhaps it would be best to simply... knock? Such pleasantries he usually considered to be beneath him, but given the circumstances...

As he had stood there wondering whether it was worth losing his pride just to appease _Jack_ of all people, the door opened, making his decision for him.

With a small shriek, the black-clad teenager turned and ran.

He barely made it two steps before a gloved hand grabbed the back of his trenchcoat roughly, lifting him nearly a foot into the air.

Jack struggled desperately in the man's grip, feet still trying to find a purchase. _"Please please please don't hurt me I'm sorry I didn't mean it I'll never ever ever say it again just PLEASE DON'T KILL ME!"_ He sobbed.

Chase was surprised enough to drop him.

Jack merely lay where he had fallen, knees drawn up to his chest, eyes squeezed shut and tears causing his eyeliner to stream down his face as he continued to beg for mercy.

On nearly any other occasion, Chase would have loved the sight of someone, _especially_ Jack, pleading for their life, but now it only made him angry, and a little... sad, for some reason.

He sighed. "Get up, Spicer. I did not come with the intention to harm you."

He obliged. He was still trembling, and anyone could tell that he had been crying mere seconds ago, but there was a bright grin on his face as he continued to babble nearly senseless appreciations for the warlord's decision to _not_ rip his limbs off or force him to eat his own organs (where he had gotten such graphic ideas as the ones he described, Chase did not care to find out).

It did, however, please the dragon to find that Jack was paying close enough attention to him he had only to raise his hand in the well-known gesture of 'stop', for him to actually do so, freezing midsentence to stare up at the dragon with wide red eyes. "Spicer,"

"Y-yeah?" He swallowed thickly.

"I apologize."

His jaw dropped open. "Huh?"

"Are you _deaf_, Spicer?" He growled. He was _not_ going to repeat himself.

"No, it's just- that's- what?" Jack shook his head as if trying to clear it. "For what?"

"For lashing out when you were assisting me earlier. It was... wrong of me, and I am sorry."

"No no no, it's really fine, you don't need to-" a gloved hand was pressed against his mouth, effectively cutting him of.

"Had I not thought it necessary I would not have come." Chase said curtly, a small grin that went unnoticed playing across his face. "You _do_ trust my judgement, don't you, Spicer?"

Ah, and there was that lovely fear again. "Of course I trust you!" Jack began to back away. "That's not what I meant!"

Merely on a whim, Chase followed, smirking as Jack hit the wall, out of room to escape and looking _deliciously_ terrified. "Really, now," he said, placing his hands on either side of the youth's head, sensitive ears picking up the sudden increase in heart rate.

Jack nodded frantically. "Always, of course!"

"Then tell me, _Jack_, why are you so nervous?"

The color of Jack's face rivaled his hair. "Um, that's- you're- because of- of the- thing?" He stammered, wincing slightly at the way his voice had risen at the end.

"The _thing_, Spicer?" Jack fidgeted, looking for an escape but finding no obvious way out of the situation. Chase would _not_ relinquish his prize so easily.

Hm...? Where had that come from?

"Y-yeah. Wasn't that why you were gonna kill me...?"

_"Kill_ you? What idiotic thing could you _possibly_ have done now that would force me to end you, Spicer?" He demanded, instantly forgetting whatever it was that he had been thinking about.

"Nothing, I swear!" Jack exclaimed, holding his hands in front of his face as if to protect himself.

When his 'evil idol' made no move to destroy him, Jack warily cracked open an eye, lowering his arms slightly. "You don't... know?"

Chase was beginning to grow impatient. "Know _what?"_ He growled. "I said I did not intend to hurt you, but you are starting to _irritate_ me!" He briefly allowed his scales to show across his skin, catching the light in what he knew to be a terrifying effect.

_"Okay_, okay!" Jack conceded, taking a deep, shaky breath. "Just give me a sec, alright? This was hard enough the first time."

Whatever backbone the albino possessed had apparently returned for a brief moment. Chase stepped back obligingly, giving the younger man his space.

"See, um, I-I-I kinda... love... you?" The second the words left his mouth he again cringed back against the wall, grimacing as he waited for Chase to lash out again.

Chase was, for lack of a better word, conflicted. He wanted to deny that what the youth had said was true and punish him for his insolence, he was a _dragon,_ it was _impossible_ for someone to love him! But the way Jack had looked at him, both in victory and defeat, even when he had fallen ill...

This boy was nothing like Wuya, desiring him solely for his power and abandoning him when it was clear he would lose. Jack seemed to be the same way, but if memory served, it had always been _he_ who betrayed _Jack _when they worked together, not the other way around.

He examined the boy. He had never seriously considered a relationship of any kind, but Jack was certainly unique, with his bright red eyes and hair, snow white skin, and a slightly feminine curve to his body.

No, he had never thought Jack could be anything more than annoying, but looking at him differently...

He would definitely test this new possibility. Certainly there would be no harm in a trial, after all, if he found Jack to be lacking, or decided he really couldn't stomach his obnoxious behavior after all, he could always return him home.

He realized then that Jack was still waiting for an answer after nearly a solid minute.

The goth began to slink away, a dejected slump to his shoulders. "It's fine, never mind."

Jack was stopped when a hand latched on to his arm. "Wait," Chase ordered.

When Jack turned around, he barely had time to register that Chase had moved before he found another mouth on his own, only for a second, and then the sensation was gone.

The everlord released the startled youth with a smirk. "We'll be in touch," he promised, before he too disappeared.

Jack stood there for nearly five minutes before his mind realized that yes, that had really just happened.

God, his life was fucked up.

**That's it. Reviewers have my eternal gratitude!**

**Haha, I ended up just sort of passing out in front of my computer before posting this, sorry, guys!**


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